


Drabbles and Prompt Fills

by guardsguards



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-10-17
Packaged: 2019-01-18 16:18:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 24
Words: 10,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12391686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardsguards/pseuds/guardsguards
Summary: Various old drabbles and prompt fills from my tumblr (gentledirkly) which I've been meaning to post on here for months. Most of them are rated G, some T, one or two M.There's a big mix of themes and characters and pairings, but because most of them are brotzly, I've only tagged that so as not to clog up the tags on AO3. Individual descriptions / pairings will be listed before each drabble. There's slightly more fluff than angst in these.





	1. Family Bonding Paint Night - Dirk, Todd, Farah & Amanda

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

“Wait, wait. Explain again what we need the paint for,” Amanda was saying, as Todd stared in confusion at the sheets of paper Dirk had just spread out on the coffee table. Four tubes of acrylic paint sat uncapped on the floor, but – having lived through a Rowdy 3 home invasion – Todd couldn’t bring himself to care much about paint stains.

“Automatic writing. It’s really not that complicated,” Dirk insisted, using his index finger – which was already coated in green paint – to draw a little swirl on one sheet of paper, “You just write without thinking about it. It helps with mystery solving sometimes, and with finding things. Don’t they teach you this in school?”

“No,” Amanda laughed, just as Todd asked, “So it’s a psychic thing then?”

“No. No,” Dirk pointed an admonitory finger in Todd’s direction, “It is a thought-organising thing. The ideas are already in your head, this just helps put them in order.”

Farah, who had been mostly silent until then, suddenly spoke up. “’Automatic writing, also called psychography, is an alleged psychic ability allowing a person to produce written words without consciously writing’,” she read off of her phone screen, “Sounds psychic to me.”

Dirk shot her a betrayed look. Farah shrugged, looking only minimally guilty.

“Why paint though? Couldn’t you just use a pencil?” Amanda interjected, which prompted Dirk’s fifth exasperated sigh of the evening.

“Pointy objects aren’t allowed,” he said, then frowned minutely at his own answer and amended it to: “Finger painting is more fun anyway. Now, we’re wasting time with all this talking. Just everybody pick a colour, let your mind go totally blank, and paint.”

The three non-psychics shared a look that somehow conveyed the thought: ‘Surely Dirk’s mind has never been blank in his entire life.’

Strangely enough though, once Dirk had re-coated his fingers in paint, he had gone quiet. His eyes had fallen shut, and he sat wearing an expression that could only really be described as ‘totally blank’.

The others followed suit, with varying degrees of effort.

A few minutes later, they were all squinting down at their creations. Amanda had evidently given up on making her mind go blank, and had just painted a rather cute picture of a kitten, which Dirk complimented profusely. Farah seemed to have been more focused on target practice than automatic writing, because she’d painted a series of concentric red circles. Todd had simply written ‘I can’t do this because I’m not psychic’, to which Dirk had accused him of not even trying.

Dirk’s painting seemed to be gibberish at first, but when Farah had the idea of looking at it in the mirror, a very clear message was revealed.

‘It’s in your coat pocket.’

Amanda’s eyes widened and she jammed her hand into the pocket of her coat, laughing in delight when she pulled out the phone they’d been looking for when Dirk had first suggested the exercise.

Todd pointedly ignored Dirk’s ‘I told you so’ smile, though he could only stay stoic for so long before he was smiling too.


	2. Dancing - Amanda/Vogel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Vogel, Amanda thought, really was the master of dancing like nobody was watching.

Of course, all of the Rowdy 3 were masters at doing just about everything with no care for what people thought. But despite his proficiency for smashing things, Vogel’s true craft was unselfconscious dancing. There must have been something infectious in his uncaring enjoyment, because Amanda found herself joining in every time.

It was during one especially erratic dance off that the kiss had happened; it had been an extension of the dancing really. Amanda knew they must have looked absolutely ridiculous because neither of them had really stopped dancing, but she didn’t care, and the roaring laughter coming from Cross sounded anything but mocking.

When she was worn out, Amanda would take the beer handed to her by Martin and down it messily. Vogel’s foot would nudge hers, and she would laugh as Gripps patted Vogel on the back so hard that he nearly ended up on the floor.

But Vogel held his own, because he was tough. With him, Amanda felt tough too.


	3. College AU - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> Original Prompt: au where todd and dirk met in college and dirk tries to recruit Todd (music major maybe? doesn't go to classes that often, not in any uni groups) to his 'crime solving' extracuricular activity thing? Todd declines but Dirk is insistent (bc of a hunch? a crush? a crunch?) (if you want, if you have the time)

At first, Todd had thought that the ‘Mystery Club’ guy must have just printed thousands of flyers. After all, he’d had enough to stick about ten to every bedroom door in Todd’s corridor, and Todd saw them littered everywhere on his walk to class.

What Todd had come to realise after about a week was that there was a total absence of flyers in any location on campus that Todd didn’t visit regularly. The music studios were full of them, but the library was a blank canvas as far as ‘Mystery Club’ flyers were concerned.

It all made sense when Todd actually saw ‘Mystery Club’ guy – improbably named Dirk Gently, according to the flyers. Todd had met this guy before.

“You!” he shouted, because he’d recognised the yellow jacket from about fifteen feet away.

“Oh, Todd! Hi,” Dirk exclaimed, turning and waving with a wide smile that seemed inappropriate for the situation.

“You’re Dirk Gently?” Dirk looked a little hurt at the question, but in Todd’s mind it was completely understandable to forget the name of somebody he’d met while high at a party at four in the morning. He only really remembered Dirk because of how he’d stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd. “Why are you stalking me?” Todd shouted, the volume no longer really necessary as Dirk had closed the distance between them.

“Stalking seems a bit of a strong word, Todd,” Dirk scoffed, rolling his eyes, “I’ve been looking for you. Because we never finished solving your case.”

“My case?” Todd asked incredulously, “There is no case! You’ve just been invading my life with flyers. If you’re a detective, shouldn’t you have been able to find me without spending however much money you’ve spent on all these fucking flyers?”

Once again, the question seemed to have hurt Dirk’s feeling a little. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” he replied, a tad defensively, “And of course you have a case. An important one. You told me, and I quote: ‘I’m totally going to be unemployed when I leave college because I don’t have a single extra-curricular’.” Dirk’s attempt at an American accent was barely comprehensible, with an underlying hint of Texan. It sounded nothing like Todd.

“Th-that’s not a case! That was me being high and venting about my problems!” Todd said, after taking a moment to absorb Dirk’s words.

“Problems you have when you’re high are still problems, Todd. And I simply cannot rest until I’ve solved your case, which in this instance, means you joining my Mystery Club,” Dirk replied firmly, pushing a flyer towards Todd.

“No,” Todd replied, even more firmly, shoving the flyer back against Dirk’s chest and storming off.

Three days later, when Todd found himself following Dirk through an abandoned frat house in the dead of night, torch clutched nervously in his hand, he cursed the fact that Dirk Gently never seemed to take ‘no’ for an answer.


	4. Clothes Sharing - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Original Prompt: I am such a sucker for clothes sharing, and it's canon in DGDHA! I would love a situation where Dirk reciprocates and lends Todd one of his jackets for whatever reason. Todd probably grumps about wearing something so flashy (but somehow it takes a while for him to return it afterwards)

Todd gritted his teeth and tried to keep looking straight ahead as they trekked on, though he could practically feel Dirk’s gaze boring into the side of his head. Todd knew that if he turned, he would catch Dirk grinning for a split-second before he would purse his lips and make a failed attempt at putting on a straight face.

He couldn’t really bring himself to regret accepting the jacket, though. Dirk had been right; Todd needed to let go of his pride to some extent when he found himself without a shirt in the middle of nowhere, and it started to snow. Never mind the fact that Dirk was to blame for getting them into this situation in the first place.

“Oh my God, stop it with the grinning,” Todd eventually burst out, after a few more minutes of plodding through the snow, “I swear, this jacket is coming off if you don’t stop.”

“You’re not even looking at me, Todd,” Dirk replied, and the damned smile was even audible in his voice, “Besides, I think you look rather nice in my jacket, so of course I’m smiling.”

Todd somehow managed to blush, even though he was so cold that his extremities were probably turning blue. The jacket was admittedly more comfortable than any item of clothing Todd had ever worn; he’d never dared to ask how much Dirk had spent on it.

“I’m taking this off as soon as we get back inside,” he snapped. Dirk responded with a satisfied hum of agreement, as if even then he knew that Todd would end up keeping the jacket for another week after the case was over and the snow had melted.


	5. Dirk and the Dress - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated: G

“Of course, you would choose yellow,” were the first words out of Todd’s mouth when he saw the dress. This reaction was really a testament to how much time he had spent with Dirk, enough that the dress itself wasn’t that much of a shock.

“Oh! Todd, I’m so glad you’re here, can you zip me up?” Dirk said, turning around. Todd glanced over at Farah – who was straightening the cuffs of her tuxedo, an outfit she had evidently been able to put on without any extra assistance – and she just shrugged at him, so he sighed before stepping over to zip up the dress.

“Do I even want to know why?” he asked, eyeing a particularly ridiculous looking blonde wig that sat on the coffee table but was obviously destined for Dirk’s head.

“No,” said Farah, just as Dirk opened his mouth (no doubt to say the opposite). “Dirk, you need to put on some makeup. If we’re doing this, we’re not taking any risks by half-assing it, okay?” she continued firmly.

“Drag convention, very important to the case,” Dirk explained in a stage whisper once Farah had turned her back, though nobody in the room was under the impression that she couldn’t hear him. Alarm bells were beginning to ring in Todd’s head.

“Right. Well, good luck, I think I have plans to see Amanda so-“ Todd was cut off.

“Nice try. Your outfit’s in the bathroom,” Farah interjected, sounding very much like somebody who wouldn’t have their mission put in jeopardy by anything so silly as Todd not wanting to put on a dress. Dirk was grinning, and Todd was regretting the fact that Farah took her job at this ridiculous detective agency so very seriously.

He regretted it less when, three hours later, Farah was hauling them both out of a gun-fight as Dirk chattered excitedly about all the progress they’d made. Allowing Dirk to snap a photo of them all at the convention, though, Todd would regret forever.


	6. Body Swap - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Original Prompt (from itsoliviajohn): brotzly prompt! Todd and Dirk fighting over the machine again and they switch bodies

At this point, Todd had been bombarded with so many strange goings-on that he wasn’t even particularly surprised to find himself suddenly looking at the world through different eyes. It was a bit of a shock, though, when he attempted to take a step forward and found himself stumbling because his legs were a lot longer than they had been moments ago.

“This is fascinating,” came a voice from across the room that Todd vaguely recognised as his own, though the accent was garbled. It was more than a little disconcerting to hear, but he knew there was no chance of Dirk shutting up. “Wow, look at this! Look, Todd, I’m short, and I’m wearing your clothes,” he laughed, Dirk’s bubbling laughter sounding distinctly out of place when parsed through Todd’s vocal cords.

Todd startled when Dirk abruptly crossed the length of the room to cup Todd’s – Dirk’s – face in his hands. “Do I always look like that? Or are you just pulling a Todd-like expression?” Dirk was asking, apparently feeling the need to map out his own face with his fingers. Todd shook his head to dislodge the curious hands.

“You’re the one making my face look weird,” Todd snapped back, then abruptly shut up because Dirk’s voice sounded so very wrong in an American accent. Apparently, Dirk didn’t feel the same way, because his eyes had widened and he was wearing his ‘new idea’ grin.

“Say something again,” he insisted, “Oh wow, I sound so cool, I sound like an action hero. Do the voice again, Todd. Say something cool. Like… ‘we have to save the city’, or something like that.”

Todd kept his mouth shut tight, glaring at Dirk a little – and that was surely an unfamiliar expression for Dirk’s face – and pushing him back towards the machine. He didn’t need to say anything aloud to communicate his intentions.

With a disappointed sigh, Dirk placed his hand back on the machine as Todd hurried to figure out how to swap them back. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long, and he felt overwhelmingly relieved to hear Dirk’s voice in the proper accent again, even if that voice was now berating him.

“You’re such a spoilsport sometimes, Todd, honestly.”


	7. "I loved you like Icarus loved the sun" - Dirk/OC

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M, to be safe
> 
> Original Prompt: Maybe you could write something that includes this one quote: "I loved you as Icarus loved the sun. Too close, too much" if it isn't too stupid idea? :D
> 
> This links to my fic l'ex-copain, and may be confusing if you haven't read that.

One of the most surprising things Dirk had found out after leaving the CIA was that the name ‘Icarus’ actually meant something. It was a name he’d been branded with since childhood, but he’d never imagined that it might have any meaning beyond being a cluster of syllables that helped categorise him in the Black Wing filing cabinets.

Dirk was taught the story of Icarus at university. He’d nearly jumped out of his seat with fear when the professor had asked if anybody knew who Icarus was, and half the class had raised their hands. It had quickly become apparent, though, that they weren’t referring to Dirk. They were referring to another Icarus, one who wore wings made of wax.

Too distracted by his nerves to fully understand the story in class, Dirk had immediately gone to the library to research it. He couldn’t help but be curious as to why the CIA had chosen that name for him, but a whole afternoon of research put Dirk no closer to figuring out what he had in common with his namesake.

When he returned to his bedroom, he was greeted by the particularly attractive sight of Camille leaning against the window pane, cigarette smoke weaving a path from his lips as he watched the sun set. Several indulgent kisses and one languorous fuck later, Dirk’s mind had been suitably distracted from the whole Icarus issue by the heat of Camille’s skin against his.

That distraction was as short-lived as his trust in Camille, or rather, Jonathan.

Going to the library probably wasn’t a normal response to heartbreak, but Dirk found he couldn’t stand to be alone in a room that still smelt of his ex-boyfriend.

Camille had distracted him from the Icarus question, so perhaps the Icarus question could distract him from thoughts of Camille. That had been the idea, anyway, but as Dirk stared down at the black print all it did was remind him of what he’d just lost. What he’d never truly had in the first place.

I loved you as Icarus loved the sun. Too close, too much.

It had turned out to be a rather fitting name, after all.


	8. Massage - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated: M

Being in bed with Dirk, Todd thought, could be a little intimidating.

Dirk himself wasn’t intimidating in any way, shape or form, of course. Dirk was the opposite of intimidating. In bed with Todd, Dirk was nothing but soft kisses and warm touches and adoring looks. These looks were the source of the problem.

Todd had never felt particularly inadequate in bed until starting his relationship with Dirk, which was ironic because he’d also never been called ‘amazing’ so many times by any of his previous partners. That was the problem with Dirk. Every kiss was “amazing”, every handjob was “fantastic”, every single one of Todd’s actions was labelled with an appropriately positive adjective, and Todd had absolutely no concept of what Dirk really enjoyed and what he was just being polite about.

Evidently, Dirk’s past experiences hadn’t encouraged him to ask for what he wanted, and the idea of being the guy to explain healthy sexual dynamics to Dirk was intimidating, because Todd’s relationship history wasn’t exactly perfect.

“What do you want to do?” Todd murmured against Dirk’s jaw, the question coming out on a whim as they lay together in bed, though it had been sitting heavily in his head for a while. He’d asked it before, but Dirk had brushed it off.

“I thought we were going to have sex,” Dirk replied, which wasn’t exactly incorrect but it was also straying away from Todd’s question. Todd couldn’t even tell if Dirk was doing that deliberately or not.

“Okay, but like… specifically. What do you like best? We can do that, it’s Valentine’s day, right? We should do something you really like,” Todd insisted, pulling back a little to look Dirk in the eye.

“I like everything we do,” Dirk scoffed, as if it was obvious, prompting Todd to groan and bury his face in the pillow, “What? I do! Is that so hard to believe? Anyway, I didn’t think Valentine’s day was really your sort of thing.”

“It’s not. But I figured it might be your sort of thing.” Dirk seemed confused by the sentiment, so Todd pressed on. “Because we always sort-of just go with what I want, right? And I’m not saying I haven’t enjoyed that, but it’d be nice to know what you want. If we could be doing anything right now, anything at all, what would you want? Like, a blowjob, a massage, trying a new position, some shit with whipped cream, literally anything.”

Todd had a sudden worrying vision of Dirk pulling out a riding crop and handcuffs. That alarming mental image distracted him as Dirk started to reply.

“Well,” Dirk was saying, “I suppose I’ve never actually had a massage.” Todd was so shocked to get an actual, genuine answer that he completely blanked for a moment before nodding.

“Right, we can do that then,” he said, and Dirk was giving him one of the intimidatingly loving looks that made Todd falter momentarily. “Uh, right, so you should lie on your front. I don’t have any relaxing music or anything.”

Dirk nodded then leaned over to kiss Todd, soft and slow, before shifting to lie on his front. Todd bit back a remark about that not being proper massage etiquette, distracted entirely by the sight of Dirk’s back. Save for a few small scars – scars that were kept carefully out of bedroom conversation – the skin was flawless, and it was easy to get caught up in staring for a few long seconds.

Todd hadn’t actually attempted to give a massage since sometime shortly after dropping out of college, but Dirk certainly didn’t seem to notice any lack of skill. Once Todd’s hands touched his back, Dirk was more than a little vocal with his appreciation, soft sighs and moans slipping out at each touch, although they were regrettably muffled by the pillow.

Perhaps counter-intuitively, Todd was pleased that Dirk didn’t feel the need to declare how ‘amazing’ or ‘fantastic’ the massage had been. Afterwards, Dirk seemed utterly content to simply make happy noises in the back of his throat as Todd’s fingers skated in aimless patterns over Dirk’s back, and Todd was content to watch him.


	9. Soulmate Tattoo - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated: T (also, set in Blackwing, so some upsetting themes)
> 
> Original Prompt: SOULMATE AU WHERE YOUR TATTOO SHOWS THE FIRST THING YOUR SOULMATE THOUGHT WHEN THEY SAW YOU.

Svlad blinked, trying to pull a coherent thought out of the swamp that was his mind. It didn’t take him very long to figure out that he’d been sedated. After all, it happened pretty often, and he was lying on the same terribly uncomfortable hospital gurney that he always woke up on. This time was a little different though; Svlad was lying on his front.

“-just a late bloomer. It does come late for some people, it’s not necessarily any fault of ours.”

“The testing is barely strenuous compared to Marzanna’s, and hers only came in a few months later than expected. Nearly five years is unheard of.”

The voices drifting through the open door didn’t make much sense to Svlad’s hazy mind until, with a sickening and startling suddenness, they did. He knew why he was lying on his front.

The tattoo had come in three days ago, in the night. The burning had woken Svlad up, and once he’d realised what it signified, he’d spent the rest of the night trying to twist around to catch a glimpse of it. He wanted desperately to be able to read the words that had appeared on his back, just beneath his rib cage, the words he’d thought would never appear, since they came for most people around their tenth birthday and Svlad was verging on fifteen. Unfortunately, his words had chosen an inconvenient spot to appear, and the only mirror in Svlad’s bedroom was two-way.

More than anything in the world, he hadn’t wanted the doctors to see the tattoo. It was like a tiny, flickering flame of hope that Svlad held cupped in his hands, one that he knew the doctors would want to snuff out with poking and prodding and tests and experiments as soon as they found it. The tattoo meant that one day, Svlad would be happy.

Svlad nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the clearing of a throat. Dr Esposito had entered the room while Svlad was lost in thought.

He rolled over onto his back defensively, adrenaline-fuelled instinct pushing through the haze of sedation.

“How long have you had the tattoo, Icarus?” the doctor asked.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s there now and it’s there forever,” Svlad replied, the defiant words coming out with a tremor to them. He’d never been very good at holding his own against Dr Esposito.

“Why didn’t you tell us about it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Silence chilled the air between them, and Svlad shivered a little.

“It’s not your place to decide the topic of conversation. I was telling the others that the tattoo wasn’t something to concern ourselves with, but if it’s making you act this way then perhaps-“ Esposito didn’t need to finish the thinly veiled threat, it had had its desired effect.

“Three days! I didn’t want- it felt personal,” Svlad blurted out. He wished they’d sent Dr Lee to ask the questions, Dr Lee was the only one of the researchers who was easy to talk to.

The silence returned, and Svlad stared a little longingly at the shirt draped over the side of the gurney. It must have been removed so they could get a better look at the words.

“Don’t make a habit of hiding things from us again,” Esposito finally said, following Svlad’s gaze and sighing. “Get dressed, I’ll have security escort you back in a few minutes.”

Once he was back in his bedroom, Svlad spent a good twenty minutes staring at the black letters in the mirror, since he no longer needed to worry about the scientists catching him out. He didn’t fully understand what all of the words in his soulmate’s thought meant, but he was immensely excited to find out.

_Holy fucking shit, who the fuck is this guy?_


	10. Soulmate Tattoo (part 2) - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> A fluffier continuation of the previous drabble

On occasion, Todd felt a little guilty about Dirk’s tattoo. While it was at least partially Dirk’s fault for breaking into Todd’s apartment, it couldn’t have been very comforting to grow up knowing that’s what his soulmate would think of him.

“How many times do I have to tell you that I like it, Todd?” Dirk huffed, apparently sensing the way Todd’s eyes were fixed on his lower back. Todd wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a psychic thing or an attentive boyfriend thing.

“It’s not the greatest tattoo to have though, is it?” Todd replied, tracing his thumb over the letters which made Dirk hum contentedly and melt a little more against the bedsheets, “Especially not for a kid.”

“I was fifteen when I got it,” Dirk corrected, as if that wouldn’t prompt a whole slew of questions, “And I didn’t know what the rude words meant.”

“You didn’t know what ‘fuck’ meant when you were fifteen?”

“No.” The reply didn’t invite further questioning, but Todd quickly formed an idea of why Dirk may have been a little naïve at fifteen. He resumed stroking over Dirk’s tattoo apologetically, and after a few moments, Dirk spoke up again: “Aren’t you the one who used to tell me to just relax and enjoy the afterglow?”

“There’s a difference between pillow talk and pillow speeches,” Todd snorted, and Dirk took the opportunity to roll onto his side – effectively concealing his own tattoo – and nuzzle his cheek against the words on Todd’s chest. Dirk thought of all the hassle he could have avoided if he’d had words on his chest; it was such a nice location. He could press a hand to the words and feel Todd’s heartbeat at the same time.

“Tell me about when you got yours?” Dirk requested in a soft voice. It hadn’t escaped Todd’s notice that Dirk was a little fixated on happy soulmate tattoo stories. He’d gone practically starry eyed when Amanda had told him about the day the small-scripted ‘perfect’ had appeared on her wrist.

“It’s not an interesting story,” Todd began, and Dirk’s expression told him that that was far from a problem, “Well, I was a kid, out during recess. It was fifth grade so somebody got their words every other day, practically, it wasn’t special. And… well, if I’m being totally honest, everybody kind of assumed it was going to be a ‘childhood sweethearts’ kind of scenario because of what the words said. I like how it worked out, though. I mean, if it was a childhood sweetheart then they’d have had to put up with all my shit during college and… It’s better this way.”

The look in Dirk’s eyes seemed to get fonder with every word, and by the time the story was finished, Todd couldn’t bear it anymore. He kissed Dirk soundly on the lips, as Dirk’s hand stayed pressed against Todd’s chest.

“It was confusing, you know. Until I realised the first time I met you wasn’t the first time you met me. And then it made sense,” Todd murmured. “They’re – uh – they’re pretty good words, that’s why I feel bad you got shitty ones.”

“I like our story, Todd,” Dirk replied firmly, pressing a kiss to the words, his lips curving into a smile against the cursive lettering, “It was a very good thought, I remember thinking it.”

You’re going to be my best friend?


	11. Estevez Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> Inspired by https://roseupinmyhead.tumblr.com/post/157239221140/this-scene-is-100-more-heartbreaking-when-you

_I became a cop because I wanted to help people._

It was such a cliché phrase, and one that wasn’t even entirely true for Estevez. Sure, he’d wanted to help people, that wasn’t exactly an uncommon sentiment. But he’d become a cop because the pay was decent, and working behind a desk didn’t suit him. A few years into the job, seeing all the shit that went down in Seattle, wanting to help people had become more than just a cliché to use in the job interview.

Estevez had joined missing persons because he really, genuinely wanted to help people.

And yet he still found himself glancing back at Dirk Gently’s prone figure, oozing blood over the leather car seat, and thinking bitterly that Zimmerfield had deserved to live more than this guy. It was an ugly thought that came from an ugly, festering fissure in Estevez’s chest. A fissure that still hadn’t recovered from the crossbow wound that had killed his partner.

His gaze caught the twin glints of two metal crossbow bolts from the back seat. The hospital was in sight. Zimmerfield hadn’t survived this far, and he’d only been hit by one.

They hadn’t made Estevez fill out paperwork for Zimmerfield, they’d let him grieve, but they made him fill out paperwork for Dirk Gently. The nurse said that he’d lost a lot of blood, but looked to be pulling through.

Zimmerfield would have been glad to hear that Dirk Gently was okay, and despite all of the guilt and violent memories that saving him had brought to the surface, Estevez was glad too.

Zimmerfield may have been gone, but Estevez was still here, and helping people was still his job. That’s what he’d do, he resolved as he stepped into the office the next day. He’d dedicate the rest of his life to helping the people that Zimmerfield no longer could.

That the rest of his life would amount to approximately five more minutes, Estevez couldn’t possibly have known.


	12. Hot Chocolate - Bart/Ken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated: G
> 
> Original Prompt (from alittlefellowinawideworld): I'd love to know how Bart got her hot coffee that she threw at Red in the middle of the dessert. Not only is it strange, but she was cradling the cup, I'm wondering if she had coffee before then. Such a waste to kill someone with it. And does she ever get a full cup of coffee to enjoy on her own? Or maybe hot chocolate!!!! Something with whipped cream and sprinkles, maybe Ken gets it for her. Their relationship goes full circle.

“It’s hot chocolate,” Ken explained, pushing the mug across the table to Bart, who was looking at him sceptically.

“Chocolate comes in bars, Ken, even I know that,” she snorted, though she still swiped a finger through the whipped cream on top to taste it. It may not have been good etiquette, but this wasn’t exactly a high-end coffee shop, and it was better than the time Ken had taken her to get barbecue ribs. Ken had felt inclined to tip their waitress double after that ordeal.

“Right, but this is like… liquid chocolate. It tastes good, I promise.” Ken still wasn’t quite used to being trusted in the way that Bart seemed to trust him now. Trust or not, though, she wasn’t very good at following his advice. Even dressed in relatively unstained clothes, she still managed to stand out like a sore thumb in the sea of plaid-wearing, Macbook-wielding college students.

Ken’s thoughts were interrupted by a sound that might have been described as a girlish shriek, had it not been parsed through Bart’s roughened vocal chords.

“It burns,” she was saying accusatorily. People had turned to stare at them.

“I said it was hot! Hot chocolate, it’s in the name!” Ken bleated in his defence. He was confident that Bart wouldn’t kill him at this point in their friendship, but there was still a good chance she’d toss scalding hot chocolate at him. “I said to try it, not to drink half of it in one go.”

Bart looked betrayed, a facial expression which lost a large part of its effectiveness thanks to the line of whipped cream on her upper lip. Ken – despite his panic from moments ago – couldn’t help but laugh at that image. Bart seemed to forget about her burned tongue, and smiled with him

“The white stuff tastes good, I guess,” she conceded after a moment, and scooped up more whipped cream on her finger. It was a start, Ken thought.


	13. Jackets - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G
> 
> Original Prompt (from alittlefellowinawideworld): Todd finally finds out where all of Dirk's rainbow jackets come from

Todd was the first to admit that his clothing tended more towards the grungy end of the fashion spectrum, but he didn’t think that his taste was cheap. Most of his clothes were just old, and admittedly a bit worn-out.

Of course, Todd had suspected from the moment they met that Dirk had slightly more expensive taste in clothing. He’d known for sure when Dirk had kept his damn tie on while digging out in the wilderness. Todd owned one tie, and it only emerged from the back of his underwear drawer for job interviews and funerals.

So, when Dirk had announced that he was overdue a clothes shop, Todd had expected it to be the slightly more high-end sort of shopping trip. It had still been a shock, though, to follow Dirk into what could only be described as a boutique. In Todd’s experience, a store being tiny and uncrowded was usually a bad sign, but apparently this was normal in the sort of shop that sold $800 jackets.

Todd had tried not to look horrified when he saw that price tag, but the snide look he got from the salesman told him that he hadn’t managed that.

“Do all of your clothes cost this much?” he hissed under his breath, and Dirk had the gall to look confused by the question.

“Well, the shirts cost a bit less than the jackets, obviously,” he replied, making no effort to mimic Todd’s hushed tone. The salesman glanced back at them, and Todd was amazed that this snooty looking guy hadn’t kicked Dirk out the minute he started talking. Then again, Dirk could easily be mistaken for a rich eccentric by people who didn’t know him that well.

The salesman cleared his throat. “We also have these colours available in the range that you selected, sir,” he announced, and Todd didn’t even need to look at Dirk. He could already picture the way his eyes had lit up with excitement at the veritable rainbow of jackets on display.

Perhaps, Todd thought, he had been naïve to imagine that Farah’s money would last a lifetime. Still, he had to admit – to himself, never out loud - that the jackets suited Dirk, and the smile Dirk wore after their shopping trip was almost worth the obscene amount spent. Almost.


	14. Kisses and Fluff - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T

Dirk had never imagined how nice it would be to wake up next to somebody else.

Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Dirk had imagined many times what it would be like to wake up next to somebody else; how it would feel to fall asleep in somebody’s arms, or with his arms around them. There were times in Dirk’s life when those sorts of warm and pleasant thoughts had been an immeasurable comfort as he fell asleep alone, and uncertain of what the future would hold.

Still, in all his imaginings, Dirk had never really had an accurate idea of just how nice it would be in reality. And now he knew.

Todd made one of those soft, grumbly noises that he tended to make when he was close to waking, and Dirk’s heart melted a little in his chest. Much as he didn’t want to wake Todd up before he was ready, Dirk couldn’t resist the temptation of brushing a light kiss against his temple. To Dirk’s delight, Todd smiled, eyes opening groggily.

“Have I ever told you how nice you look in the morning?” Dirk asked, and Todd shot him a playfully incredulous look.

“Are you kidding? You tell me practically every morning,” he snorted, as Dirk smoothed down Todd’s hair a little where it had gotten rumpled in the night. He liked that he could do that now, impart little touches that Todd would never brush away, not when they were alone together.

In fact, Todd evidently enjoyed the little touches too, because his hand had strayed over to hold Dirk’s. “You – uh – you look nice too, though,” Todd added. He wasn’t as abundantly generous with his compliments as Dirk was, but then again, most people weren’t.

Dirk’s smiled widened nonetheless, and he brought their joined hands up so he could press a kiss over Todd’s knuckles. Years of having nothing but his imagination had been worth it, Dirk thought, if Todd was the result of the wait.


	15. Spicing Things Up - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rated: M
> 
> Original Prompt: I was wondering if you could do a fic loosely inspired by the song Meat and Potatoes by Belle and Sebastian Where they try to "spice things up" a bit but it goes a bit wrong

“You’re the one who said you wanted to make things more interesting in bed!” Todd accused, even as he hastily cleared away the evidence of his ill-thought-out plan. He wasn’t even particularly into any of this stuff, Dirk was the one who had suggested it.

“Well, sorry! Apparently, I missed the announcement that interesting is now synonymous with ruddy handcuffs,” Dirk retorted, standing back against the bedroom door. He was about as far away from Todd as he could be without actually leaving the room, “And… what is that? Cherry flavoured- why on earth would lube, of all things, need to be flavoured?”

Todd decided to ignore that particular question. He thought it was rather rich that Dirk – who had once accused him of having a boring sex life – was apparently flabbergasted by these things, which honestly weren’t even that extreme.

“What the hell did you mean then?” he snapped, willing himself not to feel embarrassed but failing miserably, “I’m not being weird here, this is what people mean when they say ‘make things interesting in bed’, everybody knows that!”

“A morning crossword, is what I meant!” Dirk exclaimed, “Or perhaps a Sudoku, if we were feeling modern. Just a bit of light activity in the morning before we get out of bed.” Todd stared at him for a long moment, looking utterly dumbfounded. Of course, he thought. It made so much sense that Dirk would think that way. Todd could kick himself for not realising immediately that Dirk – who had been in awe at the existence of blowjobs a few months ago – hadn’t meant anything remotely sexual by ‘interesting’.

Todd abandoned feeling embarrassed in favour of laughing, a proper laugh that racked through his body and left tears pricking in the corners of his eyes. Dirk seemed a little baffled, but still gave Todd a bemused smile and stepped closer to pat him on the shoulder.

“You can be rather strange at times, Todd,” Dirk said, fondness seeping into his tone, “I suppose we can keep the handcuffs, they might come in handy for a case.” Todd wasn’t even sceptical of this idea, despite the cheap and fluffy nature of the handcuffs. In fact, knowing Dirk, it seemed likely.

In the end, the handcuffs weren’t needed for their next case. The flavoured lube, on the other hand, was surprisingly useful.


	16. Musical Theatre - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

Todd had never really been into musical theatre. Beyond being obscenely expensive, it just all seemed a bit… excessive for Todd’s taste.

He was not at all surprised to find out that Dirk was very into musical theatre. Of course Dirk – who had wasted half of his payment from Patrick Spring on colourful jackets – would also be the sort of person willing to spend obscene amounts of money on theatre tickets.

Todd didn’t particularly mind this enthusiasm. He didn’t even mind Dirk humming show tunes in the shower, though he drew a line at being roped into a duet when they took showers together. What Todd minded was being coerced into attending a performance of Singin’ in the Rain that was taking place a three-hour drive away from their apartment.

Dirk insisted that Todd would love it, and that it was a perfect Valentine’s Day activity.

When Dirk had said that, Todd had stopped putting up any real fight. It was their first Valentine’s Day together, and although Todd didn’t really celebrate, he could tell it meant a lot to Dirk. It was only two and a half hours of his life; it wouldn’t be so hard to pretend that he liked it.

To Todd’s complete surprise, he didn’t have to pretend. Sure, it was cheesy and the music wasn’t really Todd’s cup of tea, but he enjoyed it nonetheless because of Dirk. Dirk who spent half of the performance frantically tapping at Todd’s knee to signal that a good part was coming up; Dirk who clutched the playbill to his chest as he rambled about how amazing it was through the entirety of the interval; Dirk who wore his joy all over his face during every classic song; Dirk who dozed off on the drive home, smiling in his sleep.

Todd still thought musicals were overpriced and cheesy, but that didn’t stop him from begging some money off of Farah to buy Anything Goes tickets for Dirk’s birthday.


	17. Unexpected Intrusion - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M
> 
> Original Prompt (from holisticandsadistic): How about a Dirk Gently prompt of DONT HURT MY CHILDREN... But on a serious note Dirk barging into Todd's apartment because CASE but Todd is shirtless and bed haired half asleep and Dirk just shuts down.... If you know what I mean

It would be unwise for Dirk to admit to being glad that Todd still hadn’t fixed the lock on his front door, but he was glad, really. It was nice to be able to let himself in, and he was hoping that if he let himself in often enough then Todd might entrust him with a spare key when the lock finally was fixed. Dirk had already given Todd a spare key to his place, but Todd, disappointingly, only used it for emergencies.

Dirk wasn’t sure exactly how to feel now, as he stood in the doorway of Todd’s flat doing what could only be described as gawping. The explanation he’d prepared for his intrusion died on Dirk’s lips as he stared at Todd. Todd who was stood in his kitchen, wearing nothing but boxers.

“Seriously? I’ve told you a million times to knock,” Todd was saying, voice rough and sounding only half-awake. Dirk’s heart stammered in his chest, just as words stammered out of his throat.

“I – uh – well, I just thought I should… That is, that you deserved to know about this- this new case! Yes, a case, I thought you should know most rapidly, with the utmost of speed. Very-” Dirk’s voice caught on that last syllable as Todd raised an eyebrow at him, which shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was, “Very quickly.” In a fitting end to what was potentially the most awkward thing ever to come from Dirk’s mouth, his voice cracked on the final word and came out about an octave higher than intended.

Of course, he’d seen Todd dressed in minimal attire before, but it had been brief, and Dirk had been fearing for his life. There hadn’t been time to take in the view.

“It’s two in the afternoon, I assumed you’d be dressed,” Dirk practically squeaked, because Todd wasn’t saying anything, just giving him a bemused look and pouring cereal into a bowl. It was strange how being attracted to someone could make even the most mundane of activities look practically pornographic.

Dirk averted his gaze, then quickly un-averted it because he had very little self-control.

“I had a lie-in. Are you okay?” Todd was saying, and – God – he was stepping closer. Apparently Todd walked around in his just his boxers all the time; apparently this was No Big Deal and Todd somehow thought Dirk was going to be able to hold an effective conversation like this. “I know you get worked up over cases, but this is a bit extreme, even for you.” Dirk hummed an agreement high in his throat, forcing himself to look away again and nodding.

“Yes. Yes, just fine. This is a very important case though, most urgent. I’ll – um – I’ll just run back to my flat to pick up some things, and you can eat and get dressed and then we’ll head off, okay?” Dirk said, giving Todd no time to answer before he darted out of the door.

His cheeks were flushed and he was sure he’d made a fool of himself. Nevertheless, Dirk hoped that Todd’s lock stayed broken for a long time yet.


	18. Guitar - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> Original Prompt (from alittlefellowinawideworld): Hey, I've been reading a ton of fics recently, but none of them include Dirk sharing his vision of playing the guitar with Todd and Amanda, or Todd actually spending time and teaching him how to play. It seems like such a waste, there's so much angsty/fluffly/romantic potential!!!

Theoretically, Dirk should have been pretty good with musical instruments, with his long fingers and all. Fingers that Todd definitely hadn’t spent more than the normal, platonic amount of time thinking about. He sighed to himself; there wasn’t much point in pretending he wasn’t attracted to Dirk. That lie had lost all credibility when foggy images of the detective had seeped into Todd’s mind while he was showering. And then later while he was alone in bed. And - on one particularly alarming occasion - while he was trapped in a closet with Dirk during a case.

“Does it really matter which strings I hold down?” Dirk asked, and Todd shook increasingly less appropriate thoughts out of his mind to focus on the question. The really, really stupid question that made Todd want to roll his eyes so hard that they’d never return to their original position.

“Yeah, Dirk, it matters. If you hold down the wrong strings, you’ll make the wrong chord. You can’t just play a bunch of random notes and expect it to sound good,” Todd huffed, reaching over to readjust Dirk’s fingers on the strings. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that Dirk was deliberately letting his fingers slip into the wrong positions so that Todd would have to correct them. “There, try that.”

Dirk played the chord, and Todd nodded. 

“Yeah, that’s good, so that’s a G chord. If you can get C and D down too, there’s actually a bunch of songs you can play,” he explained, trying not to be distracted by Dirk’s smile. He’d never known anybody so happy to play a single chord before.

“You could teach me one of the songs you wrote,” Dirk suggested, then hesitated, as if gauging Todd’s reaction, “You know, for that band you hated. I bet you wrote some pretty good songs.”

Todd could feel his ears going pink and he resisted the urge to clamp his hands over then, instead just nodding again, the movement jerky this time. He should have known Dirk’s unrestrained enthusiasm would extend to this too.

“Maybe. If you get the main chords down, okay?” Todd conceded after a moment. He tried not to stare at Dirk’s hands as Dirk played another G chord.

F major, Todd decided. It was the hardest chord for beginners, and so Todd would kiss Dirk if he ever managed to learn it. Looking back at Dirk’s clumsy fingers, F major seemed a comfortingly long way away.


	19. Blackwing Tattoo - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: M (warning for general Blackwing unpleasantness too)
> 
> Original Prompt: Dirk always wears an undershirt because he has a brand/tattoo from blackwing

Todd had never been under the impression that Dirk was a normal guy. In their two months of friendship and one month of dating, the thought of Dirk being average in any way, shape or form had never crossed his mind. Dirk was a uniquely peculiar person, with a uniquely peculiar taste in clothing and a uniquely peculiar history.

So, Todd hadn’t been overly surprised that this peculiarity extended to Dirk’s bedroom habits. Dirk adamantly refused to sleep without wearing pyjamas (something about the texture of the sheets); Dirk kept his toothbrush on his bedside table instead of in the bathroom; Dirk hated to sleep with the door ajar; and Dirk was never naked when they had sex, he always kept an undershirt on.

Most of them could be simply labelled as quirks, but the last one nagged at Todd’s mind. There wasn’t a single time he’d seen Dirk without an undershirt, and he was understandably curious.

He’d made an attempt earlier that evening to remove it, but his hands had been affectionately batted away before Dirk had used underhanded tactics – namely, his unfairly talented mouth – to distract Todd from the whole issue. Now, Dirk was lying on his front, completely boneless as he usually was post-orgasm, head turned to face Todd as he rambled sleepily on about something to do with metaphysics.

Todd ran a hand down Dirk’s back and – far from seeming uncomfortable with the touch – Dirk sighed contentedly and shifted closer. It was an unnecessary experiment, Todd had established pretty early on that touching wasn’t the issue; Dirk was more than happy to let an exploratory hand slip beneath the undershirt, so long as it wasn’t hitched up too high.

Soon, Dirk would roll out of bed to put his pyjamas on – Todd never understood how he had the willpower to do that – and Todd would be even further from finding out what, if anything, Dirk was hiding. With only minor hesitation, he hooked a thumb under the hem of the undershirt, starting to tug it up slowly.

“If you’re hoping for another round, I’m afraid you’re going to be rather disappointed,” Dirk mumbled, rolling onto his side. His voice sounded light on the surface, but it was edged with anxious resolve.

“You never take that thing off,” Todd shot back, trying to play off his curiosity as light-hearted, as if this hadn’t been bothering him since pretty much the first time they’d slept together.

“Of course I do. Honestly, Todd, I’m not some sort of unhygienic oaf. I wear a different one every day,” Dirk replied.

“You know what I mean.”

“I do?”

“Dirk,” Todd sighed. He didn’t want this to turn into an argument; he didn’t like arguments with Dirk, at least, he didn’t like the arguments that were serious. They had more than their fair share of playful disputes where Todd knew he’d end up going along with Dirk, but put up a token resistance anyway. “I don’t want to freak you out. I just want to know why you always wear it.”

Dirk had gone quiet, his fingers fiddling with the front of the undershirt and his eyes avoiding Todd’s. Then, after a moment, he rolled out of bed and grabbed his pyjamas, and Todd expected that he was going to go through to the bathroom to change - as usual - and pretend the conversation hadn’t happened. To Todd’s surprise, he was only partly correct.

Dirk tugged on his pyjama trousers – the blue pair, Todd noted, the yellow pair were probably still drying – and then sat on the edge of the bed, his back to Todd. His fingers skimmed the bottom of the undershirt, and Todd had just opened his mouth to speak when suddenly the undershirt was gone, replaced by an unbroken expanse of pale skin.

Unbroken, save for a series of small black markings between Dirk’s shoulder blades. Todd didn’t dare take advantage of the moment by shifting closer, but he recognised the symbol – a diamond with a circle in the centre and a horizontal line through it - and he could guess what the six letters beneath it were. He ought to have known; Dirk had a habit of withdrawing into silence when Black Wing was the subject of conversation.

Todd watched as Dirk pulled on his pyjama top, head twitching as if he wanted to glance back at Todd over his shoulder, but was scared to see his expression. Instead, Dirk spoke.

“I thought… that it might ruin the mood a bit. Having to look at that.”

This time, Todd did shift closer, draping his arms over Dirk’s shoulders from behind and kissing the back of his neck. It was a relief to feel Dirk relax against him when he replied.

“It won’t ruin anything.”


	20. Cuddling for Warmth - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T

Todd – not for the first time in his life – wondered why Dirk’s crazy cases never seemed to drag them anywhere nice. He’d always liked the idea of going to Europe; he’d imagined visiting Amsterdam, to do what people usually did in Amsterdam. Or, maybe if he was older, he’d go to a beach in Spain or Italy. When he’d become friends with Dirk, he’d even let the possibility of visiting Dirk’s home town cross his mind.

What he had never pictured was being stuck in a poorly-insulated shack in the middle of rural Norway, while a blizzard raged outside. Surprisingly, he was more alarmed about the warm body pressed against his own than he was about the deadly conditions outside

In a way, he supposed this was partly his own fault…

 

One Hour Ago

Todd crossed his arms tighter across his chest, partly out of anger and partly because he was freezing cold.

“You might want to step a little to the left,” Dirk suggested, and Todd shot him a glare, “It’s just that there’s snow coming through the roof where you’re standing, and it’s making it look like you have a particularly severe case of dandruff.”

Todd didn’t move, and Dirk wore a slightly guilty expression. He should have been wearing a very guilty expression, in Todd’s opinion.

“We’re going to freeze to death, and it’s going to be your fault. I told you we wouldn’t be able to get back down the hill at night, I told you,” Todd snapped, and Dirk opened his mouth, looking very much like he was about to begin a reply that started with ‘Yes, but‘. Todd wasn’t ready to hear it. “No. We’re not wasting energy arguing. Just figure out how to stop us from freezing to death.”

Dirk paused, the level of guilt in his expression ratcheting up before it suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a look of pleasant surprise. Evidently, he’d had a lightbulb moment.

 

As he debated over whether or not it would be suitable to squeeze his arms tighter around Dirk, Todd began to wish he hadn’t agreed to being the big spoon. Dirk had initially wanted them face to face, but Todd had immediately vetoed that idea. Then Dirk had suggested being the big spoon, which Todd had been fine with until Dirk had made a comment about it ‘making sense, what with you being shorter’ to which Todd had bristled and insisted on being the big spoon.

It hadn’t occurred to him that being the big spoon involved being the one doing most of the huddling aspect of ‘huddling together for warmth’. It also hadn’t occurred to him that Dirk’s hair would smell quite as nice as it did. Todd forced his mind to stop wandering down risky paths, trying to appreciate the warmth without starting to think about how it might be nice to do this more often.

It was going to be a long night.


	21. Domestic Fluff - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T

Having a boyfriend, Dirk mused, was a uniquely wonderful experience. His folded arms rested on the back of the sofa, which he was kneeling on so that he could watch Todd – his boyfriend, Todd – making breakfast in the kitchen. Todd made breakfast in his boxers, which was just about the most delightful outfit he could choose to make breakfast in, as far as Dirk was concerned.

“I think the point of breakfast in bed is that you don’t follow me out here while I make it,” Todd said, sounding much more cheerful than reprimanding. Dirk could hear the smile in his voice, and it made something soften in his chest.

“It’s imperative that I watch you, Todd, otherwise… you might slip poison into my food! And I would die, all because I didn’t watch you making breakfast,” Dirk replied, a tad melodramatically. Todd snorted, flipping a pancake with a spatula. Dirk usually flipped pancakes by just vigorously thrusting the saucepan upwards, but then again, Dirk often ended up having to pick ruined pancakes up off of the floor.

“Oh yeah, like you’re paying attention to the food and not something else,” Todd shot back, turning to look back at Dirk with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Dirk feigned ignorance, despite the fact that he’d had to hastily shift his gaze a couple of feet upwards in order to look Todd in the eye.

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you’re accusing me of,” he insisted, ears tinging red. Todd huffed out a laugh, and Dirk’s smile grew fonder.

This was a life he could get used to, he thought, eyes following Todd as he bustled around the kitchen. All of the uncertainty that defined his existence, all of the alarming directions the universe pulled him in, he could manage it all if he was just allowed to keep Todd close.


	22. Book Reading and Cuddling on a Rainy Day - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: G

“I really don’t think you need that book,” Todd said, head resting on Dirk’s shoulder. They were cuddled together on the sofa in such a way that, if one of them were to move more than a few inches, the position would become unsustainable and Dirk’s precariously balanced mug of hot tea would spill and scald them both. Despite this fact, neither of them had any intention of moving into a more practical position that put more distance between them.

“Nonsense, this book is going to be invaluable,” Dirk replied, patting the spine of the bizarrely specifically named A Brit’s Guide to Surviving in Seattle, as if to congratulate the book for its usefulness. If the book appreciated the congratulations, it didn’t show it. “I need to study up on this if I’m going to be living and working here for the foreseeable future. I should make an effort to fit in with the local crowd.”

Todd snorted. Fitting in wasn’t one of Dirk’s strengths, and he doubted that a two-hundred-page book would help much with that. He told Dirk as much, though with a fondness in his voice that tended to be present these days whenever he spoke to Dirk, especially when they were alone together, and very especially when Dirk was pressed close to him and looking sweetly domestic in one of Todd’s old band t-shirts.

Dirk made a little harrumphing sound, bringing the book closer to his face very purposefully, as if that would make him absorb the information better.

“I’m going to become very good at fitting in, I’ll have you know. People will think I’m a natural-born Seattleite when I use phrases like,” Dirk paused, squinting at the book, which was now far too close to his face to be read with much ease at all, “’Howdy y’all’”. Todd snorted again.

“When have you ever heard somebody say that in Seattle? I think you got ripped off when you bought that book,” he said, “Anyway why do you need a book when you’ve got me? I can teach you.”

Dirk twisted a little to look at Todd – running the very real risk of dislodging himself from the sofa in the process – and gave him a sort of pitying look. “Well, Todd, that’s very sweet, but I don’t think you can boast the same level of expertise on American issues as-“ he stopped to read the author’s name from the cover of the book, “Chad ‘The Eagle’ Washington.”

Todd took a moment to absorb the ridiculousness of that name, then huffed out a laugh and batted Dirk playfully around the head with his own book. Dirk just smiled, and shifted back to press closer to Todd as he continued reading.

Outside, storm clouds that had been looming threateningly all morning finally broke, and rain began to fall from the sky. As did several solid-gold pigeons, a bizarre occurrence that would prompt a confused bystander to make a phone call when he got home, a phone call that would interrupt Dirk and Todd’s lazy day. They had a few hours yet, though, and perhaps a few hours of just being together was enough for now.


	23. Sci-Fi AU - Brotzly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> For anybody who followed me at the time when I was talking about it a lot, this is the drabble that was going to be the basis for my Android!Dirk AU (which I still have very slowly in the works). Please check out the beautiful art edenavari did for it: http://edenavari.tumblr.com/post/164645829576/heres-to-hoping-for-the-best-this-here-piece-i

Dirk sat on the hood of Todd’s Mark IV Cruiser, legs stretched out in front of him and the vast cosmos stretched out above him. Todd hated interplanetary ports, where there was no atmosphere to hide the eternal stretch of the universe from view. The sight of infinite blackness filled his gut with a sense of dread that never went away, no matter how many off-planet jobs he worked and no matter how many times he came to this same port to visit the same man. Todd knew a lot of people who felt this same dread when facing infinity, but Dirk wasn’t one of them.

Dirk looked up at the void, seeming only to see the shining flecks of light and none of the inky expanse in between. Perhaps, Todd mused, space was like home for Dirk. He’d certainly fit in among the stars, with his bright jackets and even brighter smiles.

“I hear,” Dirk said, bubbly tone practically swallowed by the dense quiet of the near-empty docking bay, “That there’s a planet with golden oceans the next quadrant over. Just across the Fomalhaut Bridge.”

Todd knew that Dirk mostly heard nonsense rumours, peddled by supply-haulers and skeevy “adventurers” who hadn’t even been to half the places that they claimed to have explored and conquered. Those were really the only sorts of people Dirk had the opportunity to speak to, living on an interplanetary port. Ports weren’t meant for people like Dirk.

Then again, Dirk wasn’t a person. Not technically.

“You can’t even forge papers good enough to get you on a planet. No way are you passing a quadrant border check; you know how suspicious they are of androids,” Todd replied, the cold hard truth burning his throat on the way out. Dirk’s eyebrows had pinched together in the centre of his forehead, but Todd’s traitorously pessimistic mouth continued, “Besides, you need something more heavy duty than a Cruiser to cross the Fomalhaut.”

Dirk would fit in – Todd thought – on that probably-fictional planet with the golden oceans, a place where everything was as achingly bright as Dirk was. Dirk certainly didn’t fit in with the industrial grey of the port where he lived, out of necessity rather than choice. Interplanetary ports were less prudent about checking paperwork than the fancy star-bases designed to accommodate people, and the border controls for actual planets weren’t even worth considering for a former-government android who wished to stay that way.

“You’re going to take me to that planet one day, Todd,” Dirk decided aloud, and Todd frowned. How did Dirk’s demeanour change so quickly from badly-hidden disappointment to determination? “I can feel it. It’s going to happen.” He paused to tap the side of his head, his finger – which appeared to be flesh and bone - making a metal ting when it met with his skull. “Call it a hunch.”

Todd sighed, but smiled. “Sure, Dirk,” he replied, warm hand settling over the top of Dirk’s cold one. He’d have to leave soon; he had a job to do, and he could only afford short stops at the port. Todd’s gaze shifted from Dirk’s hopeful smile back up to the void of the universe.

As always, the sight of that uncaring infinity filled him with unease, but - as Dirk began explaining how he’d helped find a hauler’s lost keys the previous week - Todd found himself thinking that facing infinity with Dirk might not be so bad.


	24. Weird Actor Dog Crack - Brotzly?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rating: T
> 
> I honestly have no justification, somebody on discord asked me to write about actor!Dirk being hired to pretend to be a dog as a prank.

> **Seeking an actor who does a good dog impression**
> 
> **$15/day plus free food & accommodation if you do a good enough job**
> 
> **Email amanda.brotzman@mail.com if interested**

“What the hell?!”

Those were the first words that burst out of Todd’s mouth when he switched on the lights to see a strange man in a yellow jacket sitting in his apartment. The man – who had no right at all to look surprised – looked surprised.

“You’re back earlier than –  _shit!_ I don’t think I’m meant to talk,” the man said. Todd gave him an incredulous look, and the man stared back, looking increasingly alarmed before he broke the tense silence with a very unconvincing woof. It wasn’t a woofing sound; the man had actually just said the word ‘woof’ in a perfectly human voice.

It was then that Todd noticed the collar. The pink collar that belonged to Todd’s dog, Rapunzel, that was currently around the stranger’s throat.

“Where the hell is my dog?” Todd demanded, things starting to slot into place, although the places they were slotting into were baffling and unusual.

“I am your dog,” the man replied, followed by another woof. He actually attempted to sound like a dog this time, but it was still pretty unconvincing. “There was a soul swapping incident. This is me now. Um, bark? Yes. Bark. And I’ll throw another  _woof_  in for good measure.”

“My dog is a girl,” Todd replied bluntly, as if that was the main issue with this situation. As if he would have welcomed a stranger sitting in his apartment wearing his dog’s collar, if only that stranger had been a woman.

“Are you sure of that?” the man replied, standing up and wandering over to Todd. He didn’t seem overly committed to the act, walking in a very human-like manner on two legs and then pressing an accusatory finger to Todd’s chest, “Or did you just plop my fragile young body onto Dr Percy’s examination table and trust him to figure it out for you? Metal tables are cold in the winter, you know, I would have appreciated a blanket.”

Todd was thrown for a moment, then shook his head. Knowing a few details was not evidence that this guy was actually his dog.

“So… you’re some kind of weird fetishist freak who checked Dr Percy’s records, that doesn’t prove anything.” Todd began to wonder if this was some kind of drug-induced hallucination; perhaps he was still high from last night’s party.

The man – apparently Rapunzel – had wandered away to go rummaging through Todd’s fridge. Well, it certainly wasn’t out of character for Rapunzel to eat leftovers. Sure enough, the man had nabbed himself a slice of cold pepperoni pizza.

“In all my nine months of existence,” the man began – he looked at least twenty years old – “I’ve never been doubted so much. And by my own owner! Frankly, it’s rude. Amanda, I’m sure, would believe me. I like her more, you know? She gives me more treats.”

“Amanda’s going to make you fat,” Todd snapped, then quickly shut his mouth as he realised what he’d said. He was so busy reeling over the fact that some part of his mind had accepted this stranger as Rapunzel that he didn’t even notice the man’s slight grin.

Quiet fell over the room again. Between mouthfuls of pizza, the man let out another half-hearted woof, and Todd began to slowly accept his fate.


End file.
